Ambush
by Hattie J Huper
Summary: When an ambush by the sheriffs foot soldiers scatter the outlaws they must go in search of their youngest member. Can they find him before Gisbourne and his men. Please read and review. Thanks
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The boy had been chased some distance, there were prints of many horses. He had been chased down like an animal. This boy was an outlaw, Mathew was sure of it. He had an innocent boyish face but even innocents could insult the sheriff and his men. It wasn't hard to fall out of favour in these troubled times.

He would not turn him out. He was a boy. He couldn't be any more than sixteen and he was sick. Wisps of flaming red hair were stuck matted to the side of his face as a fever raged within him.

They had found him out in the open by their barn, or more accurately their son had found him as he went to do his morning chores. He lay face down in the mud. Mathew had shut his wife and children into their modest shack as he went over and anxiously kicked out at the figure laying sprawled in his yard. He didn't move. With some misgivings he decided to do more. He picked the youth up and carried him into the barn.

Mathew's wife tended to him begrudgingly. She would see to him because Mathew, her husband said it must be so but she wasn't best pleased.

"What if one of the children comes down with the fever," she muttered as she fetched up more water. "Risking our youngsters for a worthless ruffian."

"It's Herne's will, this boy come to us," he muttered gruffly.

He followed her into the barn and as she ascended the ladder he handed the pale of water up to her.

He came up as she stripped covers from the shivering boy and began to wash his face. He whimpered slightly as she worked but she ignored it until her husband stalled her hand. Pulling blankets further down he found a large blood stain on the lads tunic. Lifting up the tunic they stared with wide eyes at the weeping angry gash festering on his white freckled skin.

"A wound to the ribs like that can only mean battle," Mathew muttered.

His wife did not reply. Gently she began cleaning the wound.

"Shhh," she soothed as he began to squirm, hissing threw gritted teeth.

As she got deeper into the wound the boy began to struggle. Mathew took hold and kept him still so she could clean it thoroughly.

"He'll probably not be with us by morning, that's a fatal wound," she commented.

With a new wave of searing pain the boy's dark eyes shot open and he called out.

"Robin, Robin help me."

Both Mathew and his wife exchanged looks.

Sure enough, this boy was an outlaw.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Maeve had to give him his due he had survived the night. This young outlaw was doing battle with God and nature and thus far he was winning. Though he was rendered mad with fever.

He thrashed about in the straw whimpering to himself, sometimes begging, often cursing. Sometimes he'd call out for Robin, other times it was John. There was something mixed in about a mill, something else about his brother but mostly his ramblings were too incoherent to piece together. But she didn't care. Mathew brought this to their door. They have three hungry children and a goat that won't give milk and then they have this.

She frowned to herself, maybe her mother was right, she should have married the gamekeeper. What's a cuff to the head every now and then when you have money in your purse and plump well fed children.

She stalled her thoughts as she had ripped down the bandages too roughly and caused him pain.

"Shhhh..." She ran a hand through his damp curls. "Easy now, I'll be careful."

"What poor mother brought you into the world?" She said out loud as she began to sponge his wound with fresh water. It was angry as ever weeping clear fluid and puss and some mucky grey matter she hadn't seen before. He clung to the sides of the make shift bed, staring up at the ceiling as she cleaned it out. He had struggled and pulled against her as she tended to him that morning and she had told him off. That had obviously registered on some level because now he just took it, gripping the sides of the cot until his knuckles turned white. Once clean she bound it with rags she had washed that morning. Her mother always held great stock in keeping wounds clean. A clean wound is half the battle. Once it was wrapped she lifted his head to give water. He gulped it like a dog, his body shaking with the effort to raise himself. She laid him back on the straw and stroked his cheek. He was a creature lost in a world of pain, it was kindness she'd give any dog, she told herself.

~o~

Mathew returned in the evening with three fresh rabbits. As ever she breathed a sigh of relief that he hadn't been caught. Their oldest boy, a fine sturdy lad of twelve years took the meat and sat on the front step to begin skinning.

Mathew ruffled his hair before following his wife inside.

"It's as we feared, there was trouble in Sherwood. Some skirmish with soldiers and outlaws."

"Was it...Robin Hood and his men?"

Mathew nodded grimly.

She put her head down and slapped the chair in front of her. Mathew went to her and took her in his arms.

"My love, I can't turn him out. If he were

older...,"

She looked up with a sad smile. "If he were older you'd do just the same thing Mathew of Sturry and don't you say no different."

"We'll get him well enough and then we'll send him on his way, no harm done," he told her.

She nodded with unshed tears of worry in her eyes. If the sheriff and his men were to find the young outlaw on their property there would be hell to pay... For everyone.

But she could not blame her husband. She would no more turn him out to fend for himself against the wild dogs of the forest than he would.

~o~

Despite his height Will put it up to the big man.

"I'll go in alone if I have to,"

John roared into his face. "You're a fool lad. The place is teaming with soldiers. You wouldn't get past the first clump of trees."

"Well I'm ain't gonna sit here waiting on them to kill Much. You stay here if you're scared of the sheriff's men. "

John took hold of his tunic a flash of temper glinting in his eyes. Will was up for this and glared back ready to take him on.

Despite himself Robin yelled over them both. He got between them despite the fact that either one of them could pummel him.

"Nobody is going anywhere," he yelled. "We wait for the cover of darkness. Nazir has gone to track their route. He'll be able to tell us if they captured Much. Until then, we wait. Deliberately then Robin turned his back on them and headed into the forest.

They both stared after him and then turned to each other.

"We wait," John repeated.

Will growled and put his hands up as if to choke John.

Marian followed him out to the lake. It wasn't hard to keep up, he was limping slightly on his left leg. He took a nasty rip from a sword as one of the sheriff's men attacked him. He had fought on regardless hardly mindful of the wound but now it was starting to really hurt.

"You should let me look at that," she told him.

He took her hand and she sat with him looking out at the glistening water.

"I'll live," he told her. "We have more pressing matters."

"I know you're blaming yourself for this Robin..." she began.

"There's no time for blame Marion, I have to pull it together. I lost our most vulnerable member." Robin's face wore a haunted expression as he internally relived the last twelve hours. The attack had come from no where. They had been celebrating Tuck's birthday with an abundance of game and venison. All were making merry with fine wine and riotous games when suddenly they were surrounded by armed guards and horses. They fought with all they had. Even on full bellies and tanked up with wine they bashed the soldiers into a retreat. They laughed then, slapping each other on the back. The wine still dulling their senses. It was some minutes later that they realised that Much wasn't with them. A search of the area brought up nothing.

Robin bitterly regretted their reckless behaviour. As their leader he should have known that they couldn't afford to so let their guard down. All he could hope was that Much wouldn't pay a high price for his stupidity.

As if Marion could sense his thinking she pulled him close.

"He shouldn't even be here Marion, he should be in a warm house somewhere wondering who he'll be taking to spring festival. He's too young for this life."

"Much has survived well enough so far," Marion's soft voice was like a soothing balm to his darkening thoughts.

"He has a good role model," she smiled.

"Your last leader would never have allowed..."

"Our last leader would be the first to admit that the very same thing happened on his watch, Much was taken by Templers no less."

Marion looked deep into his eyes. "Robin, you've got to stop comparing yourself to him. We had just as rough a road in his time as we do now. The difference being he had no great shoes to fill but his own."

Robin's dark eyes turned to her. "My life started the day I met you Marion, I know that is forward of me but..."

Leaning forward, her soft warm lips caressed his mouth stalling the words in his throat. He again felt that welcome jolt of heat rush through him making him insane with desire. He pulled her to him kissing her tenderly at first and then with passion. She parted her lips yielding completely to his sensual kiss allowing the kiss to deepen. He held her tighter as his mouth invaded hers. She could feel her heart rate quicken as his unique masculine scent invaded her senses.

He pulled away first knowing that if he didn't stop now he wouldn't be able to stop himself later. She was disappointed but knew they could not stay here like on other carefree evenings. They must find Much and soon.

Robin was about to speak but he grimaced as he got to his feet.

Marion looked at him. "Robin you need to rest that leg."

He smiled and pulling her to him he leaned a little on her as they walked back.

"You see, perfect solution," he grinned as she swatted him playfully.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"We'd best be quick today. Don't you give me no trouble now, I've to go to market this mornin and fetch some..."

Maeve had hauled herself up the ladder with her bucket of water but now she stopped dead as the young outlaw stared back at her looking totally within his senses.

Without a word she scurried back down the ladder and throwing the bucket from her she ran from the barn. A minute or so later Mathew entered the barn and made for the ladder. Much held his ribs and tried to get up but the pain made his head swim.

"Stay where you are," Mathew barked.

Much did as ordered eying them both suspiciously.

"So how's our young outlaw today?"

"I...I don't know what you mean. I'm no outlaw, I'm a farmers labourer." Much rattled off the well rehearsed speech John made him say almost daily.

"Farmers labourer is it? What would a farmers labourer want with a bow and a quiver full of arrows?"

Much couldn't answer. He took in his surroundings with uncertainty, he hadn't the remotest clue how he had gotten here.

"We need to take down that bandage across your chest and clean the wound out. My wife will do that. But i'll be standing right here. If you make a move to hurt her I swear i'll kill you."

Much was bewildered. He couldn't remember anything of the previous days and now he lay injured in a barn and threatened by a stranger. The woman moved forward and lifted his tunic off over his head. His face flushed red as she began to unwrap the tight bandage wound around his torso.

"I can do it," he tried to push her hands away.

"Let my wife do it, she's very good at healin people. You were mad with fever when we first found you, she brought you back from the brink."

So despite his embarrassment Much obeyed feeling a little wary of this man.

"What's your name boy?" Mathew asked, as Maeve applied a cooling salve to the gash at his ribs.

Much's eyes blinked rapidly as he blurted out "Martin,"

He didn't make eye contact which let Mathew know he was in fact lying.

"Martin is it. Well Martin you can stay here until that wound heals and then I want you gone. We don't want no trouble with outlaws here."

Much was going to say again that he wasn't an outlaw but he didn't think this man would believe him and he didn't want to incur his wrath.

Instead he turned his attention to the woman as she spoke to him.

"Have you been scratching at this bandage?" the woman asked as she noticed red marks beneath the wound.

Much shook his head.

"You leave it be, you'll bring on another fever if you keep on with that." She scolded him.

She worked on cleaning up the wound and wrapping it tightly in bandages as if she had done this every day of her life.

"Up to now I've had to clean you up but now you're proper awake Mathew can take you outside and you can do your business out behind a tree." She told him.

Much was about ready to die. Why don't they just take him outside and flog him. This woman had seen him, proper seen him. If Will or John knew this they'd be laughing for months. Much could hear them laughing now.

Much was too young to realise that Will and John would just have been happy that he was safe and being cared for.

~o~

Nazir appeared back later that evening. He reported directly to Robin.

"He was not with them," he told him.

"Are you sure. You followed them all the way to the gates," Robin asked.

Nazir nodded.

"Nazir, Tuck has made food ready for you. When you've eaten we'll begin a cross country search." Robin told him.

"When that which is lost is returned, then I will feast," Nazir spoke in barely a whisper. With that he made ready to leave at once.

"Tuck," Robin called the fryer to him.

"I'll bring supplies for him but you know Robin, most likely he won't eat them. He is single minded is our Nazir, I wish I had his discipline," Tuck patted his round belly as he spoke.

"That would never do Tuck, I could scarce live without your meat pies," Robin grinned handsomely as he patted the fryer's shoulder.

Thus far Nazir had been tracking the soldiers who had attacked their camp. All felt sure they were holding Much but now it was found that he was not with them, they had the difficult task of tracking a lone boy headed off in a random direction to God knows where. They each took in this mammoth task with a frown as they walked along. All except Nazir. It was proving easier than he expected. The youngest outlaw was clumsy and awkward in his retreat, snapping branches and leaving large indentations in the muck as he barrelled along. Nazir was confident he would track him down. Though now he stopped and studied the slight markings on a tree.

Robin came up beside him. "what is it?' He asked.

Nazir studied the marks tracing them with his fingers.

He looked back at Robin.

"He is injured." He said simply.

"How could you possibly know that," John asked, not wanting it to be true.

Nazir pointed to the markings on the tree. "He rested his hand just here, this is blood," he told them. "he has not been walking straight. The boy is injured."

Marion put a hand to her face, Will cursed under his breath.

"Well what are we all standing around here for," he muttered testily "we have to find the little bastard."

Will stormed ahead whether anyone was following or not. Nazir moved like a panther to overtake him before he trod all over the trail. With patience Nazir continued eying with expert precision every blundering move Much had made hours before.

Robin followed behind with Tuck and Marion as the rest scouted ahead. His leg wound was making its presence known shooting savage tingling pain from his hip to his knee.

He'd sort it when they found Much, he told himself. That didn't come soon enough. Although he had managed to hide the worst of it, infection was starting to fester. He stumbled collapsing to the earth. Marion called to John as she bent to help him.

Robin tried to get back up on his feet but the pain brought a grimace to his face that was unmistakable. He collapsed to the ground and lapsed into unconsciousness.

"What is it?" John asked, staring with bewilderment at his prone leader.

"I don't know, he had a leg wound, he was limping earlier," Marion told him.

"What leg wound?" John asked, looking slightly annoyed at this new information.

John bent and ripping up Robin's trousers with his knife he hissed air between his teeth at the angry mess festering just above his left knee.

"You need ta tell us these things lass," John told her.

Marion suddenly felt very young and foolish.

"He wouldn't let me John, he doesn't want to appear weak in front of the rest of you. He has way too much to prove," she said with regret.

"He doesn't want to appear weak, I'd be crying," Will winced as he took in the angry gash jutting across Robin's leg.

"You'd be crying if you were stung with nettles," Tuck said with a vague attempt at humour.

John turned to the rest of them. "I say we make camp, we've lost the light and he needs to rest, what say the rest of you?"

"I'll get a fire going," Will shrugged off his quiver of arrows and went to find some wood.

~o~

Much heaved until there was nothing but bile stringing its way into the bowl.

He grimaced in pain as the vomiting had torn at his chest reigniting the searing pain in his ribs.

"All done now?"

She eased him back onto the straw and helped him lay on his side. She then took a cold flannel and wiped his face and mouth.

"ThankYou," he breathed as he struggled to cope with the pain.

"A bit early for solid foods, we'll just have broth tomorrow," she told him as she swiped back damp curls from his glistening face.

Mathew had gone to settle the children. He came back out now with fresh water and clothes and headed for the barn. He stopped in his tracks as he watched a crowd begin to gather at the edge of his property. Tamping down his fear, he headed towards them. By the light of many torches he could make out the faces of all the local towns people.

"Elrick, what brings you here at this hour," he asked of the village leader.

"It's well you may ask Mathew, your boy has been talkin. You are harbouring an outlaw here., don't try and deny it. We won't have no such thing. You're bringing danger to our door Mathew. We won't stand for it. Hand him over. We'll end his life quickly with little pain."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The outlaws made Robin as comfortable as they could. Tuck gathered what healing herbs he could find and mashed them into a paste. He applied this foul smelling concoction to the angry gash and wrapped it tightly with rags.

John snared a couple of rabbits and roasted them on a spit. Nazir had gathered some wild berries and found a spring of cool water. He made a refreshing drink for Robin.

Robin took it with gratitude but inwardly he heaped blame on himself for slowing them down. Perhaps his father was right. Not everyone is born to greatness. That had been his father's mantra as Robin had tried at many tasks. He was that bit slower than his father's prized swordsman, he wasn't quite as good a horseman as their castle guards.

He had learned to accept his father's frown of disapproval, it did not matter. No ones feelings were hurt but his own but this was different. He was chosen to lead this group of men and now the youngest of them was missing. He was somewhere injured and needed him possibly to save his very life. As he lay there in the dark, the others sleeping around him , Robin set his mouth in a grim line as he stared up into the trees. He would not halt their progress tomorrow, he told himself. He would find the boy tomorrow.

~o~

Mathew was stalling for time. He held them at bay but to what end. He was hopelessly outnumbered but he refused to give way. He would not let them take the boy.

"We hear he's injured. He'll likely die anyway Mathew. Better this way.." Elrick gestured to the others,

"They've brought clubs and sticks. It will be quick, he won't suffer. We can dispose of him in the swamp."

"Elrick, he's just a boy. This would be a heinous act of cruelty. Is this what we've come to?"

"I'm sorry Mathew, people have died for looking Lord Gisborne in the eye, if they find this outlaw here they'll burn this village to the ground and kill us all. No, we must act."

He signalled to the others and they ran past Mathew towards the barn. Mathew could only look on helpless as his wife screamed and struggled with them. Soon after the boy was dragged out.

"Don't drag him like that, you'll open the wound," Mathew called as they dragged him between them. He could see clearly that it was too late, a fresh patch of scarlet had formed quickly on the bandage and spread across his abdomen. Much grimaced in pain, his eyes shut tight as he was pulled along.

They all stood in the yard wondering how best to kill him. their torches illuminating the scene.

Much had lapsed into unconsciousness which was probably just as well.

"Well. someone start," Mark the shepherd said looking from one to the other. "He's just a boy, he don't bite. Someone hit him."

"You hit him then," Paul Ramsdon roared at him. "You're so keen, you hit him,"

Mark raised his weapon snarling at the other man. "How bout I start in on you,"

A scuffle broke out, the two men grappling with each other, others moved in to break it up. Much had regained consciousness by now and he pulled from his captors and went to run. All stopped as they realised and watched him for a moment as he staggered towards the forest. He crumpled to the ground in a heap just feet away from the first tree.

"We can't kill him," Paul muttered.

"I know that," Mark roared. "Damn you, Mathew, damn you to hell for bringing this upon us." He turned in frustration and walked over to check on the boy.

~o~

Robin passed a bad night, fever brought on hideous nightmares. He could see Much struggling up ahead, he could clearly see him trying to walk but he could not get to him. All at once it was raining hot painful blood. He could not understand why the rain was painful but he had to get to Much and just couldn't. The rain was too painful. He came awake with a jump. Marion raised her head and gazed at him in concern. Her warm familiar scent was comforting.

"Are you alright?" She put a hand to his head. "Robin, you're burning up,"

"I'm fine, it was just a dream," he told her.

She shook her head, "you are not fine Robin that wound has brought a sickness."

"I'm fine," he snapped as if saying could make it so.

He stared out into the wilderness his pale features wearing a haunted expression.

"I'll see to it Marion, I'll see to it when we find the boy,"

"You're hard on yourself." She told him softly as she reached up to stroke his cheek.

He took hold of her hand and kissed it. He then took her in his arms and settled back down.

"He didn't choose this life. It was...foisted upon him," Robin spoke with some anger.

"You didn't either," she looked up at him in the darkness, she could see his eyes clearly in the moonlight.

"I did," he nodded, "I had choices. That boy had no choices. They burned the mill where he lived, killed his parents, killed his brother. He had no choice but to turn outlaw. He's not particularly good...but he has no choice. It's the only road open to him. We are all he has. At his age I was given a fine stallion for my birthday and I spent the summer in Cambridge enjoying a festival. I doubt he's ever been to a real festival."

"You think a lot about these things Robin,"

"No it's just, the world has to be a fairer place Marion. It has to be as accommodating to the Much's of this world as it is to the likes of Guy of Gisborne. Justices and choices for all."

Marion smiled in the darkness. "And you wonder why Herne picked you,"


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N. Apologies to anyone reading this story, I won't be posting any more chapters. There are other stories I am writing and people are reading and waiting for the next chapter. This tale has turned out to be a time waster. It hasn't garnered enough interest to warrant posting new chapters. It hasn't garnered any interest lol.**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Thanks so much for your kind reviews. They were very much appreciated. I will be updating this story as often as I can (-:

"Elrick please, what have you decided," Maeve took hold of the older man's tunic in her desperation. "Somewhere he has a mother Elrick, if you kill him...,"

"We haven't killed him woman, he's through there," he gestured to a large meeting house in the centre of the village.

"We haven't decided what we're going to do with him, we're having a meeting tonight. You might ask your husband..."

She was gone through the doors before he could finish. Men sat by the fire drinking home made ale and talking about the cruel, cold weather. She ignored them as she bustled up the stairs. She found Much on a straw bed being tended to by an old woman.

Much was glad to see her, his eyes lit up to see a familiar face.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

Much nodded. "It don't hurt as much,"

His boyish face took on a worried frown.

"What are they going to do with me?" he asked.

"Now don't you go worrying none about that, you just get yourself better. Herne will protect you," she tucked blankets around him as if he were one on her own. Outlaw or not he wasn't much more than a child .

~o~

The morning was spent hunting in the great forest. Despite the urgency of the situation they had to eat and they had just about run out of provisions. Robin tracked with the rest of them and managed to fall a great stag with a single shot. He slung his bow across his shoulder and limped over to the dead animal. He tried to heave the animal up to sling it over his shoulders but with the first effort he winced with pain. The others approached, John patting him on the back.

"That was a fine shot lad," he said. Before Robin could intervene John hoisted the animal over his shoulders and began walking back to camp. They all nodded their approval at Robin's efforts and headed back resisting the urge to help him as they knew he would not welcome it. He limped behind the rest trying to ignore Marion's worried glances.

~o~

The meeting house was full to capacity. Every man living within a ten mile radius came to hear the fate of the outlaw boy. Some were genuinely worried, lest the sheriff got wind of it but most were curious and eyed him as if he was a fair ground freak. Marcus of Antrim paced the floor ranting out his opinions as if they were the only ones that mattered.

"Look at him, butter wouldn't melt in that mouth, make no mistake if he had a knife in his hand he'd cut you from ear to ear." He pointed.

Much sat stiffly on a bench staring up at him. They had determined that he should be present considering it was all about him but he was exhausted and in pain and could just about hold himself upright.

Marcus eyed him with disdain. Every year he paid out hefty taxes to the sheriff, his family barely getting enough to eat. Why should he suffer under an unjust regime when this whelp half his age lives freely in the forest eating as much venison as he pleases. Why should they help him.

"Do we not deserve some small compensation." Marcus went on "Extra provisions for our families. Extra wood for our stove. Winter is fast approaching friends. This ruffian could be the answer to our prayers. All in Nottingham would be quick to show us their gratitude."

"Marcus, you would be putting the boy to death as much as if we had thrashed him ourselves. Food served up from such a bargain would stick in my throat." Mathew spoke quietly.

"What, you would see children starve in another harsh winter and let this villain go free?"

Marcus marched over and grabbing hold of his tunic he hauled Much to his feet. The others grumbled their disapproval at this.

"Put him down Marcus," Elrick growled. "We don't need dramatics, we need a practical solution. He can't stay here and he's too ill to be moved on. Oh for heaven sake put him down."

Marcus shoved Much downwards so hard he missed the seat and landed heavily on the ground.

"There's no need for that," Mathew roared at him.

"There's every need." Marcus looked about the room, his face flushed in rage.

"You will live on and suffer in silence, not I. Here now is a chance to curry favour with those who matter and I mean to avail myself of it. I will return with sir Guy of Gisborne and the Sheriff."

He ran from the meeting house before they could stop him. Seconds later he could be heard on horseback galloping off into the forest.

"Fool, damn fool," Elrick growled. "Does he think the sheriff will favour us in some way."

Mathew frowned "with all respect Elrick, we have more pressing matters." He bent and helped Much to sit up.

The village elder nodded and hauled himself to his feet. "Brother Marcus has given us little choice, we must take the boy into the forest and hope his friends find him there. To keep him here in the village would mean death to us all."

Much bristled at this news but he knew they had little choice. As much as he dreaded being left defenceless in the forest he could not let them suffer because of him. At least some of the bravery of his older brother had rubbed off on him.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter. 7

The sheriff was indeed very interested. He leaned forward in his chair stroking his moustache as Marcus of Antrim blurted out his story.

"So you say this young fellow stumbled into your village two days ago."

"Yes my lord. They will not say his name but some say he runs with Robin Hood."

"What does he look like," Gisborne asked scowling down at the ruffian.

"He's young my lord, maybe sixteen or seventeen. He has a mop of curly red hair." Marcus told them eagerly.

The Sheriff and Gisborne exchanged glances.

"Hum!" The sheriff nodded "and he's been there two days already, what made you come here?"

"I saw it as my civic duty my Lord."

"Just so," he nodded as he held his goblet up for more wine. "Your civic duty...and of course you expect nothing in return for such an act,"

Marcus faltered slightly "well my Lord perhaps a few coins for the effort. I'm not a greedy man anything you can spare, I'd be much obliged."

"Of course," Robert nodded.

Gisborne felt he needed to say something, "And what of Robin Hood, have you seen him, has he been in the village. Would you recognise him if you saw him." He asked.

"Do shut up Gisborne you're giving me a headache," Robert told him, feeling his hangover taking hold already.

"We will look into it. In the meantime I hope you are in good singing voice?"

Marcus twisted his cap in his hands feeling slightly bewildered. "My Lord?"

"It is late evening, we desire to be entertained, do we not Gisborne," the Sheriff favoured his henchman with a sardonic smile.

With a smile of his own Gisborne took his seat at the table and wrenched a leg from the cooked chicken in front of him. With a barely discernible nod to the servant he was handed a goblet of wine.

"Sing!" He barked as he tucked into the feast before him.

With no other choice Marcus of Antrim squealed out an old folk tune, his stomach grumbling at the sight of so much fine food.

The sheriff and Gisborne sat back picking at the many dishes and swigging large gulps of expensive wine. Marcus shuffled from one foot to the other as time passed trying to think up more tunes to entertain them. Sometimes they sang with him, more often they threw bones or scraps of meat at him. Much later they hauled themselves up and staggered towards the stairs intent on going to bed.

Marcus, now hoarse from singing watched them go. He considered calling out to them as they disappeared up the stone steps. His mouth moved but no sound would come. Then he considered lunging at the table and devouring what was left of the food but he soon found himself marched between two soldiers. A great iron grill was pulled aside and he found himself thrown down into darkness.

He stood shivering, as the grill was secured in place. He listened as the footsteps faded to silence.

"Why?" He yelled in the darkness.

~o~

They had no choice but to leave him. They built a fire to keep him warm and left him some bread and goats milk. Much felt no compunction to eat but was grateful for the warmth of the fire.

As they prepared to leave Mathew crouched beside Much,

"The wife made you these bread rolls this mornin, they're still warm."

Much took them with a nod of gratitude. "Tell her thank you, for all the stuff she did."

As he went to get up Much took hold of his sleeve.

"Mathew, the Sheriff will come. You must hide, all of you. He don't care, he'll kill you."

"Nay lad, we'll be alright. We'll be saying Marcus has a grudge against us for not buying his prize sheep."

Mathew smiled but Much would not be swayed.

"No, Mathew. I've seen what he can do, he has no mercy. He'll kill..." Much broke off in a fit of coughing.

"Now take it easy lad, that's enough. You will start that wound to bleeding again. Rest easy,"

Mathew put another log on the fire.

"I must head back now, you mind yourself young villain. Or one day it'll be your neck in a noose if you don't look out." He patted Much on the shoulder and headed off after the others.

Much frowned. He needed help but not at the expense of these people. The sheriff would show them no mercy, he'd kill them all and burn the village. He couldn't bare that.

~o~

"Nasir, stop, wait," the Fryer waddled up to him.

Nasir had been engrossed in his task of tracking the boy but now he waited patiently as the Fryer approached.

"Are you sure he's gone this far, he couldn't have gone this far. We've had to stop over night already." Tuck told him.

Nasir nodded without speaking. His dark eyes scanned the immediate area around them for any signs of threat.

"Much can run like the wind," John put in "besides, we had to stop because of..."

John didn't finish. He looked at Robin feeling sorry he'd said anything.

The young noble man had slowed them up but it was unintentional. That injury had festered and now a nasty infection had taken hold. The only telling sign was the flush to his face and beads of perspiration that glistened on his forehead. All talk of him staying in camp with Tuck and Marian went unheeded. He was determined.

"Well let us not waste any more time standing around talking about it." Robin muttered.

He limped on ahead. Nasir gave him a dark look of concern but turned and continued on.

John caught up with him and took hold of Robin's arm.

"Robin, I didn't mean..."

Robin put a hand to his shoulder. "No John, you're right. I need to keep up."

He limped on ahead before John could answer.

"He's got grit, ill give him that," Will said as he sauntered up to John.

The big man shook his head. "He's got too much to prove. It's not good."

~o~

They all stood to attention, trying not to shiver as the Sheriff dismounted. He walked purposefully to Mathew and struck him across the face.

"Harbouring an outlaw, your children will be first to die." He sneered.

Gisborne got down from his horse and a woman nearby shrieked in terror as he took hold of her teenaged son. He took a dagger from his belt and held it to the youngsters throat.

"Where is he," he yelled. "Speak or I swear I'll spill this boy's blood on the filthy ground on which you live,"

"I'm here."

All heads turned as Much limped towards them with the aid of a stick.

"I'm here my lord, let him go," Much's voice cracked slightly, such was his fear.

Gisborne threw the boy aside. He went to where Much stood and kicked the stick out from under him. He stumbled but did not fall. But the much taller man punched him so hard in the stomach Much crumpled to the ground choking in agony and clasping with both hands the wound to his side.

"So nice of you to give yourself up halfwit," the Sheriff grinned. "I'm sure your friends will be wondering where you are. Gisborne have your men set up a perimeter guard around this village. Sooner or later Robin and his men will come looking for him. They will not escape this time."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

 **Sorry people, RL getting in the way again. I'm sorry for the delay and I hope you enjoy chapter 8. It's a twisty bendy road.**

They sat in groups in the meeting house guzzling copious amounts of ale and eating all the villages supplies for the winter. Nervous women hurried back and forth with more dishes for the foot soldiers. Gisborne stood warming himself at the large fire which took up the centre of one wall. The sheriff sat close by, his evil bulging eyes illuminated by the flames.

"Look at you, you're in that mood again aren't you Gisborne. I'd thought you'd snapped out of it."

"I don't know what you're talking about my Lord," Gisborne mumbled as he stared into the flames.

"I think you do," Robert sneered. "Admit it Gisborne, you're going soft. You're starting to wonder, I can see it in your eyes. You try to carry on but you question yourself. Do you fear eternity Gisborne, eternal damnation. Is that it?"

"How can you say I'm going soft. You saw how I treated that boy, I would have cut him from ear to ear if Much hadn't appeared," Gisborne blurted desperately. The Sheriff had hit a nerve.

The Sheriff's smile was all the brighter. "Oh, Much is it, what happened to the halfwit. That's what he is you know. His mother most probably dropped him the day he was born, stupid woman. Dropped him on his head," the Sheriff took another long swig of ale, some of the brown liquid ran down the sides of his neck.

"You're drunk," Gisborne muttered as he continued to stare into the flames.

"Yes I am...and I am in dire need of entertainment." the sheriff nodded to two foot soldiers at the entrance.

Minutes later Much was dragged in and thrown down in front of them. He was in a pitiful state. His bottom lip was swollen and cut, his face was coloured with many bruises. He looked dazed as if he didn't know where he was.

The villagers could only gasp and look away. They were surrounded on all sides by soldiers and couldn't help him.

Maeve put down her serving tray but another woman held her back shaking her head in warning as they looked on.

"Stand up halfwit," The Sheriff commanded.

Much was hauled to his feet. He stood, staring at a point on the ground, swaying as if he'd keel over any second.

"How does it feel halfwit. This is the last day of your life. Tomorrow morning you will hang, how does it feel to be abandoned to your fate,"

"John will come," his answer was barely perceptible. The Sheriff had to lean forward to hear.

"Oh, John is it?" He leaned back with a smile of satisfaction. "John Little I presume you mean, and what of your new leader. Will he not mount a rescue. Maybe it is beneath his dignity to rescue such an urchin."

Much shook his head in frustration. It had been a slip of the tongue. Of course the new leader would come. Much was angry with himself. He'd let the side down. But there was more urgent matters to consider.

The sheriff turned to one of his guards. "Strip off his tunic and tie him to that beam. Maybe two dozen lashes can help him remember who his leader is,"

A desperate roar of anguish rang out and some braver villagers surged forward. There was more than enough soldiers to subdue them as the others carried out the Sheriffs orders.

They wrenched Much's arms around the beam and tied his hands at the wrists. He screwed his eyes shut tight and clenched his teeth, holding on to the beam for dear life.

The Sheriff laughed. "Look he's trembling. I've seen men actually urinate on themselves in such situations Gisborne. They've got no dignity these ruffians." The Sheriff nodded for the soldiers to continue.

The first lash brought on an unmerciful scream from Much. As much as he tried to brace himself he buckled under the searing pain. His legs went from under him.

A soldier approached and he tried to straighten back up quickly before he was man handled.

On the next lash he managed to stay silent, breathing hard through his nose.

"Watch his trousers on the next one Gisborne. They always ..."

The soldier was taken aback when Gisborne put a hand to his shoulder.

"Take him outside and tie him to a tree...put his tunic back on him," Gisborne ordered.

The Sheriff laughed hysterically. "Soft, Gisborne you're gone soft. I knew it,"

"You're drunk!"

"I may be drunk but you're gone soft caring for halfwit boys,"

Gisborne exploded. Grabbing the whip from one of the soldiers he lashed it millimetres from the Sheriffs face.

"This isn't battle," he roared. He held the whip to the Sheriffs face.

"This isn't battle," he said bitterly.

He looked around at the terrified villagers and back at Much. He threw the whip down and left the meeting house in stark silence.

After a moment the soldiers holding Much up turned to the Sheriff.

"Do as he says," he laughed. "In fact tie him to a tree sitting down and cover him with a blanket. I want Gisborne to see that his good influence had impacted on the rest of us,"

Gisborne was at a loss. He was just...at a loss. Hadn't meant to kill him, that boy. Of course he hadn't. Why should he kill a child that young. He didn't see him, he was riding fast through the village, riding fast.

Villagers, he hated them, hated every last one of them. He should kill them all, cowards. Damn cowards who can't stand up to them. Damn cowards. His hands clenched to fists as once again moisture welled in his eyes.

"I need to die in battle," he said aloud.

He was startled as someone approached. He hastily wiped his eyes and scowled expecting one of his guards.

He didn't expect to see a girl. Flecks of blond hair shimmered in the moonlight as she approached.

"Water my lord," she held out a goblet to him.

"Did the sheriff send you," he barked.

She shook her head "no,"

She turned to leave.

Before he could respond she fixed him with a warm smile that rendered him speechless.

He stared after her as she headed back to the huts.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Gisborne let out a shaky, ragged breath. He looked down at the goblet of water. He was used to many a flirtatious smile but hers was different. It was a smile of innocence. A smile you would expect to see on the face of an unknowing child. A smile no one ever bestowed on Guy of Gisborne. He continued to stare at the hut she had entered.

The goblet of water fell from his hands.

"Don't even breathe," Will Scarlet rasped as he held the dagger sharp to Gisborne's throat. His sword was slowly removed from its housing by another and he was marched into the concealment of the trees. A blindfold was tied roughly in place as he stumbled onwards.

Gisborne was thrown down in front of him and the blindfold was ripped off. He blinked as the light from a small fire danced in his vision.

Robin was sat on a fallen log, he tried to remain neutral though his leg wound still shot out darts of unrelenting pain. He would see to it when the boy was returned he told himself, but every day it was becoming harder to focus on anything but the pain. The infection was making him feel constantly sick and dizzy.

He was brought to his senses by Gisborne's questioning stare. With some effort Robin straightened up.

"Where is the boy Gisborne?"

"Go to hell,"

Will moved in, grabbing roughly at his dirt blond hair his head was pulled back and the blade was pressed to his skin.

"Let me do it," Will growled, "let me take his worthless life. One cut,"

"No Will, put the blade down," Robin told him.

"Damn you nobleman," Will shouted back as they had rehearsed. "What would you know about it. You're as bad as he is. Livin the cushy life, gettin fat on all the venison you can eat. Let me take his worthless life, you know nothing."

"He'll do it Gisborne," John put in.

"Then do it, do it now damn you," Gisborne suddenly roared back.

For a moment they were taken aback. Gisborne's cry of anguish actually sounded real.

"What are you waiting for Scarlett you coward. Finish it. What's wrong with you?"

Gisborne struggled to reign in his emotions and Will looked to Robin momentarily confused as what to do. There was no sport in terrorising a broken man.

In another minute Will would have recovered and taken Gisborne for an actor but what happened next was even stranger.

"He's tied to a tree near the south exit. He's guarded by two soldiers." Gisborne told them. "What does it matter now, perhaps his worthless life means something...to someone."

John nodded to Robin and using the end of his staff he knocked Gisborne out with a blow to the back of his head.

"What do you make of that?" Tuck asked.

"It's a trap," John said "what else could it be."

Robin shook his head, "I'm not so sure,"

He got unsteadily to his feet. "I reckon our best bet would be to take Much back under the cover of darkness and there's no time like the present, what say you?"

The other nodded their agreement and began to make ready.

"But couldn't we use Gisborne as a bargaining tool. A straight swap," Marion shrugged.

Robin smiled grimly. "That will be plan B. I can't see the Sheriff giving up a prisoner to save Gisborne's neck can you?."

~o~

The solider shoved her backwards with a scowl.

"Be on your way woman," he growled.

"Would you begrudge the boy some water?" Maeve smiled sheepishly.

"Just a drop or two, I'll be gone then. You'll never see me again. Just a mouthful of water for him and God will smile on your good intentions."

He grabbed her roughly by her shawl and push her in the direction.

"Be quick woman. I can't stand to hear that nagging," he snapped.

The soldiers lost interest in her and stared out into the shadows of the surrounding woods.

Much lay hunched against the tree he was tied to. Even in sleep he looked exhausted with pain. His pale boyish face held a constant grimace.

She put a hand out and ran it gently down his cheek he came awake with a start.

Without speaking he looked up so see the two soldiers standing nearby.

"I've brought you some water," she put the cup to his lips. He winced as it stung his swollen lip but he took a good drink. He gave her a small smile of gratitude.

Using a small cloth she took from the folds of her tunic she dipped it in the water and pressed it to his blood encrusted lip.

"It's alright Maeve, it don't hurt," he lied, trying to move away and wincing every time his mouth made contact with the rough fabric.

"Much what about the other wound?" she asked quickly. "The one to your stomach."

"It's alright," he answered unconvincingly. Truth was he didn't know. Just now the whip marks on his back were overriding every other sense. Everything else came a dull second to those stinging, searing lacerations.

She took down the blanket and opened his tunic to look for herself.

The soldiers had ripped off the bandages she had placed there but thankfully it had begun to scab over thanks to the healing salve she had been using. She nodded in satisfaction.

"We will pray for your soul Much," she whimpered as she tucked the blanket in tighter around him. He looked at her with questioning eyes as he felt her put something in his hand. She shook her head slightly as she continued to fix the blanket around him.

"That's enough woman. He'll be dead tomorrow and won't feel the cold then. Quit your fussing,"

She was reifed up away from him and pushed out into the open courtyard. She drew her shawl around her head and with one last look at Much she hurried away.

"What you staring at outlaw, ain't she a little old for you?" The soldiers laughed at their hilarious joke but turned and left Much alone. They weren't very diligent in their work, standing with their backs to their prisoner they stared out at the forest talking about a certain servant at the castle who was very well endowed and very free with her time. They both laughed like idiots about her as Much worked feverishly on the ropes binding his hands.

~o~

Only two guards, this could prove easier than they thought.

By the sounds of the riotous drunken laughter the rest were in a large central building gorging themselves on whatever meagre rations the village had left.

Robin squinted in the near darkness. He could just about make out the slumped form of the boy tied near the two guards. He could not tell his condition but by the way he was sitting it didn't look good.

With a signal to the others Robin took off skirting the village perimeter. The guards seemed to be oblivious. Just as they neared the two guards Much suddenly sprang up from where he had been sitting and lunged at one of the men guarding him.

The outlaws froze momentarily as the other guard shouted for help. His cries of alarm rang out cutting through the still night air. Dozens spilled out of the meeting house. They were drunk but there were many. Nasir battered his way through with both swords. He tried desperately to get to the boy but others were around him cutting off any rescue attempt.

Robin too fought with all he had. With the first rush of adrenaline he floored two soldiers with the butt of his sword and head butted a third but he was starting to weaken. With infection taking all his strength, he was battered to the ground. The soldiers could have just ran him through with their swords but it was clear they meant to kick him to death. He covered his head with his arms as he was kicked and punched unable to defend.

Just when he thought he was about to breath his last he felt himself dragged up from the ground. Will sliced through armour with viciousness as he pulled Robin with him. John took hold of Robin then and the Soldiers backed up a bit on seeing that Will had free reign to carve them up. With a guttural yell he launched into them, slashing with abandon. They began to retreat. They would fight in any battle they told themselves but Will Scarlett was mad.

All the outlaws made it back safe to the concealment of the forest but they had failed to rescue Much.

They watched as the Sheriff sauntered out of the meeting house. On a signal to others, four soldiers brought Much forward. He looked terrified. The soldiers had promised to make good on the 24 lashes he was to receive earlier. Punishment for his escape attempt. He was in so much pain already he didn't think he could stand it.

He was brought towards the Sheriff. Robert de Reginald eyed him with a cruel smile.

"You've seen better days young Much. With a face full of bruises and lashes to your back I'd imagine you would have more sense than to attempt escape. Now you will suffer more abuse even before you hang. It is a matter of pride to my soldiers,"

Much said nothing, his dark eyes turned to those concealed within the forest.

The Sheriff called out to them, "We have your boy. As you can see he is still in one piece. Well just. He is to hang at dawn tomorrow if you do not give yourselves up."

Robin suddenly stepped into view.

"We have your henchman Sir Guy of Gisborne. Any harm comes to the boy, he will hang. And a letter will be sent to Prince John informing him that his favourite guard was sacrificed for the life of a seventeen year old no count ruffian,"

The Sheriff bristled slightly. He had not known favour with the Prince for some time. On such news the prince may just take it into his head to journey to Nottingham and run things. The Sheriff couldn't have that.

The Sheriff straightened up "The boy hangs at dawn, you have sealed his fate."

Without another word the Sheriff turned on his heal and walked back towards the meetinghouse.

Robin locked eyes with Much. He wanted so much to convey some reassurance but Much was grabbed roughly and marched between the soldiers to an unknown hut in the village.

Robin turned and walked back towards their camp. He made it halfway before he collapsed to the ground. John and Nasir brought him the rest of the way.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

His heart ran cold with dread. Much looked on with frightened eyes as he was marched to a secluded barn. The soldiers laughed amongst themselves at this sport. It was just one of the many perks of the job being able to torture whom you pleased.

"You can leave your tunic on," a soldier told him as he tied his hands.

He said this almost as if Much should be grateful. Much went through it with an ashen face, trying not to tremble as they prepared him for his punishment.

He was forced to lean over a stack of hay bails, one of the soldiers pulling tight on the rope securing his hands.

"We're going to give you twenty. We'll go slow and give you breaks in between because it's a severe punishment but keep still. You struggle and we'll add extra on at the end. Do you understand?"

Much nodded and swallowed hard bracing himself for the first lash.

~o~

Will couldn't believe what he was hearing. He paced up and down trying to control his growing rage.

"You let him go, you let Gisborne go, have you gone mad?"

"It wasn't right Will, it just didn't...feel right,"

Robin couldn't explain. How could he. How could he explain having visions . He hardly understood them himself but somehow he knew that if Gisborne remained in camp Will Scarlett would have killed him and that was not Herne's will. Sometimes he cursed his role in this strange new life.

"That infection has gone to your head," Will pointed accusingly.

"We are so fucking outnumbered here. They could pick us off easy. They are going to hang Much at dawn and you let lose the only card we had to play. What the hell is wrong with you,"

"It was all I could do," Robin roared back. Will stalked over in two strides and took him by the collar of his tunic.

Sweat glistened on Robin's flushed face and Will could feel the heat of fever emanating from his clothes, but Will's rage consumed him.

"You had no right," he roared into his face.

They stared each other down, Will flaring at the nostrils. Neither paid heed as Tuck tentatively got between them and tried to uncurl Wills fingers from Robin's clothes.

"Please, This isn't helping," he said gently.

Will was suddenly aware of a third person and he turned to Tuck then.

"This ain't over," he spat through gritted teeth.

Tuck was quick to move backwards as Will took off through the forest.

"Where ye goin...Will," Little John called after him.

~o~

Word of the fallen soldier reached the Sheriff's ears quickly. The man was guarding the perimeter of the village when a single arrow pierced his heart.

"They are picking us off one by one," the Sheriff paced nervously. "Oh get out of the way you stupid woman," he pushed a middle aged woman aside sending her tray of assorted fruit and nuts to the floor. She bent carful to stay clear of him as she picked them up.

"Where is the boy now?" He asked, desperation creeping into his voice.

"He is being held in a barn near the rear of the village my Lord. He is receiving punishment for trying to escape."

"Never mind about that now. Make him ready Parnell. We leave for Nottingham within the hour."

The Sheriff was not to know that one man was responsible for the fallen soldiers. Will Scarlett could wait no longer and had decided to take matters into his own hands. He'd kill them one by one if he had to.

Parnell was enjoying his new found favour with the Sheriff and fervently hoped never to see Gisborne again. He strode into the barn with all the authority of second in command.

"Halt the punishment," he commanded.

Much's back was a mess of blood soaked lacerations and he was slumped against the hay bails, his legs hardly taking his weight.

"He's only had fourteen," the large soldier with the whip complained.

Parnell went to the boy and lifted his limp head.

"He's had enough. Cut him down and make him ready to travel. We leave for Nottingham within the hour."

"I thought we were to hang the boy here at dawn?" One of the soldiers asked.

Parnell went to him and knocked him off his feet. The soldier stared up with a dazed expression massaging his jaw.

"Don't ever question my orders again,"

~o~

Will watched with sharp eyes as a large burly soldier carried Much to a covered wagon. From his vantage point high in the trees Will could see clearly how he carried the boy across his shoulders like a stricken deer and dumped him into the back of the covered wagon. Will frowned grimly to himself. He couldn't fail to notice the younger outlaws lack of movement. Had they killed him?


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11.

 **Thanks so much for all your lovely comments and reviews. You have made writing this so much fun for me. I sincerely hope you enjoy the final chapter.**

The others braced themselves as Will approached them. They had been walking slowly towards the village intent on taking the direct approach and attacking head on.

"He's not there," he told them now, his anger of earlier completely forgotten "They're taking him back to Nottingham."

"How do you know?" John asked.

"I seen em didn't I. Now are we gonna stand around here arguing the toss or are we going after that cart,"

Robin nodded his agreement and began limping on ahead. Nobody followed him.

He turned. "Well come on then."

Tuck looked to his feet, John scratched his beard. Nasir headed off past Robin to begin tracking.

John sauntered up to him. "Robin... I think it's best you wait it out in the village," he told him.

"You think I'm not fit to lead this assault John?"

"The condition you're in... no," John shook his head. "You've made it this far lad but that wound. Tuck can only do so much. That wound could kill you."

"I can do this. I can. With enough determination you can do anything. Herne sent me to lead you. I will...I must..."

"NO!"

All eyes turned to Marion as she spoke.

"No Robin," she said with more compassion now. "You are not fit Robin . You are ill. Perhaps you could continue but you'd only be slowing the others down. Much needs to be the priority now. You need to stay at the village."

Robin looked to the others, they were all in reluctant agreement.

Marion was instantly sorry she had spoken up, somebody had to say it of course but to speak out like that in front of the others.

Robin nodded. "God speed," he told them "May Herne protect you."

He limped off then in the direction of the village. John signalled for Marion to go with him.

John wasn't happy either. Their new leader was a good and determined fighter. This wasn't an affront on him but they had to rescue Much and they needed able bodied men, it was as simple as that.

~o~

Marion walked by his side in silence. He was out of breath already from dragging his stricken leg with him.

She was trying to form some sort of an apology when he suddenly stopped and turned to face her.

"I've...I've been a fool." He began.

"Robin...,"

He took her hand in his as he spoke. "I'm sorry,"

"Why are you sorry," she smiled gently.

"All this time I have been trying to keep going, trying to keep ahead of the others. But that was all for me, for my place in this group. I never stopped to think about the bigger picture. Rescuing Much is what's important. If they can do it without me then all the better, as long as it gets done."

Robin shook his head. "I have a lot to learn Marion."

"Not so much," she reached up and kissed him tenderly. "You do well enough on your own."

~o~

The cart was rattling away towards Nottingham as a snails pace. They had taken the cart from the villagers and it was typical of the short distance vehicles owned by poor serfs. It was not fit to travel for miles. It creaked and rattled as rotted bits of wood came lose and fell away with every bump it crossed.

The Sheriff would have told his men to take the boy and drag him behind one of their horses but that would leave an easy trail for the outlaws to follow. Besides the Sheriff was feeling quite naked without Gisborne to take a stray arrow for him. He wanted best speed to Nottingham.

Within the musty covering of the cart Much was feeling every bump on the trail. He had finally come awake after passing out during the whipping, but right now he wished he could return to oblivion. There was no comfortable way he could lie, his back was alive with searing, stabbing welts of pain. Even if he could be comfortable for a second another jolt from the cart would bring fresh tears to his eyes. Eventually blackness descended once again sparing him more agony. He slumped forward and was still.

~o~

As they neared the outskirts of the village Robin's strength finally left him. Without warning he crumpled to the ground.

"Robin!"

Marion tried to lift him back up, he tried to clear his head enough to help but he was spent. Days of trekking through the woods in poor health had finally caught up with him. She tried calling to him but he wasn't even rousable anymore, he needed care. Marion had just decided to leave him and go for help but now she stood routed to the spot. There standing just yards from them was Sir Guy of Gisborne. He looked back at her with an unreadable expression.

She stood shielding Robin, a small knife in her right hand and blazing anger in her eyes.

"Leave us in peace," she spat, standing her ground.

Gisborne made a decision. As she lashed out he moved forward, disarming her in one swift movement. He held her small struggling frame in a vice like grip as his eyes took in the man unconscious on the dirt floor.

She got a hand free suddenly and scratched his face.

"Blasted wench," he roared.

She braced herself expecting him to strike her but he shoved her away from him and put a hand to the bloodied mark.

"How long has he been like that?" He asked, taking her off her guard.

"It's nothing to you. He spared your life. Leave us in peace Gisborne." She said in a shaky voice. She couldn't hope to defend against him, Gisborne was a solid 160 pounds and had felled men twice his size.

He crouched low to get a better look. Robin's hair was matted with perspiration and his face held too high a colour. Gisborne lifted his eye lids and shook his head with a heavy sigh.

"Can you help me get him up. We'll bring him to the village."

Marion just stared back at him with deep distrust in her eyes.

"When next I see him I'll run him through for the outlaw he is. But as it is I owe him a debt.

Now will you help me or stand there watching him die."

Together they hoisted Robin up over Gisborne's shoulders and he carried him carefully to the village. Marion walked behind not at all happy with this turn of events but with little choice. They were now Gisborne's prisoner.

Villagers came quickly from every direction on hearing Gisborne's commands.

"He is to be cared for. Do this in good grace and I will see to it you are spared any further interference from the Sheriff."

They nodded to him as they took hold of Robin and carried him towards the nearest hut.

Gisborne stood with Marion watching them for just a moment and then he began walking off. Marion watched him go not knowing quite what to make of it.

Just before he made it to the forest Gisborne turned suddenly as he knew instinctively he was being followed.

Despite everything his heart lifted slightly as he took in the sight of her welcoming eyes. His expression softened.

She smiled disarmingly. "Come, let me make you supper," she told him.

"Why?" He asked

With no other answer, she shrugged.

"Because you're hungry,"

Gisborne looked to the forest. He had been intent on following the trail left by his soldiers bringing the cart to Nottingham but now he turned instead and followed her to her hut.

~o~

As daylight dwindled the Sheriff swallowed down a growing sense of unease. He had no instincts but his soldiers were nervous and fidgety like animals before a storm. Their unease was born home as an arrow thumped into the chest of the soldier nearest the Sheriff. He gasped in pain. The Sheriff pushed him off his horse and tried to ride forward. The trail was narrow and the cart was lumbering it's way out in front.

"Get out of the way, get out of the way," the Sheriff cried out as he tried to get past the soldiers in front of him. More soldiers were felled each side. They slid from their horses effectively blocking the Sheriff's escape. Soldiers tried to ride through, the cart was pulled along regardless but a rope suddenly sprang up knocking the soldiers from their horses. The outlaws appeared then from the undergrowth and fought on with swords. They were hopelessly outnumbered but Will John and Nasir crashed through their ranks fighting with such viciousness the soldiers began to pull back. Tuck felled two soldiers with his staff effectively taking possession of the cart.

With little choice the remaining soldiers took to their heels and fled. None of them wanted to spar with Will Scarlett and the Sarason was just carving people up.

The Sheriff nearly wet himself as he was pulled from his horse.

"He's in there, we have not hurt him. He's there," he pointed to the cart, his hand shaking as he pointed.

Nasir held their prisoner secure as John and Will pulled the covering off so they could see.

They both gasped at the sight. Their young friend was literally lying in a pool of his own blood. The smell of dirt and infection rose up from him as he lay unconscious, his boy like face was coloured with dark angry bruises.

Will turned in a blinding rage towards the Sheriff.

"Not now lad," John put a hand to his chest.

Will looked to John, rage burning hot on his face and a slight trace of moisture glistening in his eyes.

"John..."

"Not now lad," John told him firmly.

With some great effort Will got himself back under control and left the Sheriff to Nasir and Tuck.

He jumped up onto the cart taking the skin of water John handed to him. Much began to come awake with a grimace. He sensed someone was with him and his face hardened as he prepared himself for what was to come.

He felt a hand caress his hair and turned eyes towards the familiar voice.

Much tried to control himself as he stared up into the faces of his dearest friends.

"It's alright lad," John smiled down at him.

"Much don't try to be brave, you've been through some shit. You're safe now, we have ye" Will told him.

With that, Much broke down and sobbed out his gratitude and relief. As gently as he could Will took hold of him.

"You're safe now, it's over son." He told him as Much cried quietly into his shoulder.

~o~

Marion ran to them as they appeared at the edge of the village. John was carrying Much in his arms. He didn't want the boy to stay one minute longer in that filthy cart.

"Marion, find the healer," John told her.

Without asking she took off to do his bidding as John carried Much to the meeting house. He quickly laid the boy down on a long table and turned him onto his stomach. The healer hurried in. He took a knife and quickly cut the blood soaked tunic from his back.

They grimaced at the awful sight. Much's back was slashed to ribbons with angry red lacerations. Yellow puss had began to ooze from some of the wounds already. Much was awake and he began to tremble as cold air added to his misery.

"This needs to be cleaned and stitched with pig gut." the healer told them.

"Sit him up,"

Gently as they could Will and John sat him up. Nasir looked on with a dark unreadable expression.

The healer brought forth a clear liquid in a small cup, "he must drink this. It's a home brew it'll help with the pain,"

It was bitter and foul tasting. Much gaged as it hit the back of his throat.

Will held the cup to his lips and made him drink it.

"Knock it back son, come on," Will told him.

Much pulled a face as it went down and shook his head as the bitter liquid burned it's way down the back of his throat. The healer was in a far corner cleaning equipment and getting all ready for what seemed like a long time. Finally he came back around the table to tend to his patient.

He lifted Much's chin and stared into the boys face,

"That's better isn't it," he smiled.

Much's expression had mellowed a little.

"We'll begin with cleaning the wounds and then I'll start stitching him up. Lie him back down please arms by his sides."

The healer worked on him all that evening painstakingly cleaning the wounds out and stitching the worst of them. Despite the herb/alcohol infusion he had been given, Much felt sharp jolts of pain as he was being stitched up. John, Will and Nasir had to hold him in place as the healer worked. They had to harden their hearts against his whimpering cries, it had to be done.

"He's nearly done lad, try and keep still." John told him gently as he held his shoulders in place. Much bit his bottom lip trying to remain quiet as the stitching went on.

Finally the healer was finished. He checked on the old injury to his side and then wrapped the boys torso in a thick bandage.

"I'll give him something to help him sleep and then I really must return to my other patient. You outlaws certainly have given me work tonight" He smiled as he went to the far table to mix up a small drink.

"What other patient?" John asked.

The healer looked at him. "The tall man who was with you."

" Robin?" Will looked to the others.

The healer nodded. "I've done what I can for him, it's in the lap of the Gods now."

~o~

John was shocked. He was laid out on a straw mattress, Marion by his side, he looked so weak. His flushed face held a sheen of perspiration. His hair hung in damp threads about his face.

On seeing John he tried to sit up.

"Much?" He asked, taking hold of Johns tunic.

"He's fine, he's sleeping."

On taking this in Robin lay back, his eyes finally began to close. In panic Marion looked to the healer.

He came immediately and checked on Robin, putting a finger to his neck.

"It's alright, his heart is beating at a good rate. He's just exhausted. He should have been resting that leg days ago."

"We did tell him," Will shrugged.

~o~

Much came awake four hours later. He was stiff and winced in pain as he sat up but he looked a little more rested and could manage at least some of the broth Tuck gave him.

"How's Robert," he asked immediately.

"He's alright, like you he's seen better days but he's strong. He'll be up and about soon."

"I knew you'd come," Much smiled a boyish grin. "They said I was done for but I knew you'd come, you, John, Will and Nasir. You wouldn't let me hang. I knew it,"

"And Robin " Tuck told him "Robin wanted to come too but he couldn't on account of his leg,"

Much was silent for a minute.

"Robin's dead Tuck," he said quietly.

~o~

The large gates creaked open and the cart came rattling through. It was pulled by one lone horse and onlookers gasped in the early dawn light to see the naked man tied within it. The Sheriff stared up at the sky as the cart rattled through Nottingham transporting him to his castle. He ignored the smirks and grins as people peered into the cart gaping at his skinny frame. Some day he would know revenge against Robin Hood and his men. Some day soon.

The End.


End file.
